Silent Hill: Endless Chasm
by Grub
Summary: A Civil War history teacher is very stressed out and needs a vacation. The moment he realizes this, a broucher arrives for the perfect town.
1. Chapter One

SILENT HILL: ENDLESS CHASM ==- CHAPTER 1 - The Greatest Teacher  
  
Neil Spencer, head on desk, drool eminating from it. A man in his late 20's, brown hair, hazel eyes. Rough stubble on his face. Could be from anywhere. Constant work for the past 2 months. A break from school? Think again. Essays and articles abound. For all the time Neil had been working, kids had been off to places. Movies. Arcades. Concerts. Places Neil couldn't go. Places he couldn't think of going. Places he couldn't even dream of going. He loved what he did. He was a history teacher in Roedell Elementary School, a prestigious building, full of tradition, and believe it or not, very scholarly youngsters, ranging from ages 5 to 8.  
  
They were all the best in history - especially Civil War history - and Neil was to thank for it by the administration.Their history grades soared, and peaked during the Civil War classes, which was Neil's favorite time from history. He taught it with such preciseiveness and clarity that everyone understood was he was saying. The message was to the point and they got A's on all their tests in Civil War.  
  
Neil was so good, he made the best Harvard teachers look bad. He made the Princeton teachers look like daycare. He turned the Oxford professors ways of teaching into mockeries of the very thing education stood for. He was a god among scholars. However, he was a person who never thought too highly of himself and always pushed himself to the limits which is why he was making 10,000 dollars a year instead of 150,000 at some place like MIT. He looked forward to - and at the same time dreaded - the off-season. Always during the off-season he would pump more information into his brain, run himself to the edge. By the end of the break, he would know so much the steroid-injected wisdom would have a tizzy fit, spin your head 360 degrees, dropkick it out the window like an old football, then call a surgical airstrike upon it. He could instantly recall the entire diary of General Lee and would constantly recite Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation.  
  
Professors? They were nothing. Everyone knew it, everyone accepted it. That is, except for the very man who made brilliant mathematicians sob, who made the english teachers crumble, who converted history into a science, then into an art, then back again to a science whenever he pleased - with ease.  
  
Then it hit him. His very first dream since he started teaching. Every other sleep since then had been a blank. One minute he would be awake, the next sleeping for a brief moment in darkness, then for what semed like an even shorter amount of time, he woke up once more at 5:30, good as new.  
  
The dream was strange. Stranger than what he could remember dreams being like. It was very, very vivid. He saw an old, dusty place. People were moving around it, pulling books off shelves. The books would throw dust everywhere and some people would sneeze with much force. Everyone was whispering, but at least they were making some kind of noise. Some kind of signal to show that their brains were still receiving oxygen. Neil saw himself on a desk writing furiously as a huge mound of paper was laying on the desk he was writing on, each one filled with miniscule handwritten letters. He had been in here forever, but still there was work to be done. If you counted the pieces of paper, which had been written on both sides, you could count more than 500. Still writing letters madly was Neil. He looked much different. He was very scruffy and pale. He obviously never got any sunshine. He had a big hair and a huge, hairy beard that went everywhere. He was gangly, minus the silliness. There were a few friction burns on his fingers from writing so fast for so long. His handwriting was very, very good. Even more amazing for the speed and amount of time he had been writing.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a group of people screaming. He looked out to the window. He was very high up, wherever he was. Suddenly from a door in the large room came a woman.  
  
"NEIL! HURRY! PLEASE HURRY! DON'T ASK WHAT'S GOING ON, JUST FOLLOW ME!"  
  
Neil followed the woman up a few flights of stairs. How big was this place?! Eventually, they reached the top. The woman entered a small room. The attic of the building. She pointed towards a big glass door that lead outside. Neil opened the door and skimmied across the ledge. What was he doing?  
  
He saw tons of people down below, screaming and shouting at something around the corner. He finally made it around. He screamed at the sight. He screamed ever harder as his voice's pitch went up. And up. Higher and higher until it sounded like ---  
  
An alarm clock. Neil groaned and shuffed his head on the table. It kept on ringing and a very groggy Neil mumbled something inaudible about the clock. It was becoming very irritating, but Neil was too tired to turn it off. He almost fell asleep again. Finally, he got the energy to move his arm very slowly towards the clock and he slammed down on the top of it, sending it toppling down, making a funny bell sound as gravity slammed it into the carpet flooring of Neil's apartment. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his clock, then at his work. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms out. He pulled out a cloth and wiped the drool off from the table. He then stood up, stretching his back and legs. The stretch made him dizzy. He yawned again and trudged over to the refrigerator like an old man. He opened it up and the light inside turned on, making him close his eyes. All the windows were still draped so that the light wouldn't get in. His eyes adapted to the light and then he looked around. Orange Juice. Butter. He pulled both the items out and set them on a counter about 5 feet away, then pulled a bag of bread off the top of the fridge and set it down next to the other items. He hooked up his toaster, put two pieces of bread inside them, then pushed down on the levers. While it toasted, he opened up a cabinet revealing many plastic cups and mugs. He pulled out a mug and poured some juice into it. It filled up to the top and then completely ran out. It would be until friday, or rather tomorrow, that he would get his paycheck. He had ten dollars left in his account. He took the empty carton and threw it away into an empty trashcan which he had changed bags the night before. It made a soft noise as it hit the mass produced material and then made a thunk as it hit the bottom of the can.  
  
He turned on the kitchen light, and as soon as the light came on and the switch made a little click sound, the toaster rung and the newly toasted popped out. He walked back over to the toaster and pulled out the toast. He withdrew a paper plate from another cabinet and set it on the counter, then putting the toast that was searing his hand on top of it.  
  
"Ah, shoot."  
  
He accidentally grabbed 3 plates. Coincidentally, like the orange juice, it was the last of its kind residing within the apartment.  
  
"Oh well, they're cheap. I can always get some more when tomorrow's pay comes through."  
  
A knife was laying nearby. He cut into the butter and spread it across his toast. He then put the butter away. Finally, he grabbed the plate and his juice and turned on his small TV.  
  
"--and then, he ran away."  
  
Just audio. Then the visuals appeared. A bearded man was on television. The History channel. He was being interview by a squirly looking man with a moustache. The moustached man said, "So, what is your final opinion?"  
  
Neil began to drink his juice as the bearded man put his finger up and said, "It is not my opinion, it is the truth. Custer did live! He survived his last stand!"  
  
Suddenly, orange juice cannonballed out from Neil's nose, nearly hitting the TV. Neil laughed and said during his laughter, "Oh boy! We've got a real loon here! Dream on!"  
  
He watched the interview of the so-called historian and consumed his breakfast. After he was done, he was ready for another long day of writing. So he wrote. He wrote through the whole day and into the night. He put down his french fry box and burped. "Excuse me." said Neil.  
  
He had bought a fast food dinner with his last 10 dollars. He sat up, moving his chair aside as well as his new 250 pages of writing. He went to the bathroom and washed his face with freezing water, then went over to the toilet, opening his zipper. He thought for a moment as the toilet water turned green. He was trying to think of the Civil War... He couldn't. After about 15 seconds, he was done and pulled up his zipper. He flushed the toilet and went back over to his desk, sitting down at the desk. He thought and thought. He couldn't. He couldn't think of anything. He was out of ideas. Out of everything. He was mentally exhausted and he had nothing else to write about. He knew nothing else. He had put most of his serious stuff into this enormous book he had been writing. According to his contract, he was to write a 350 page book. He had only written 300. Where would he get the other pages worth of information? He only had 4 days left until he had to send out the finished work.  
  
He put the idea to bed as well as himself. He hoped it was just his brain getting to him, being that it was very late and that you can't usually think straight at 3:00 AM. The warm, wonderful bed welcomed him. He crawled in. Bliss. All the parts in the world came together at that moment as he plunged into deep sleep.  
  
----------------------------------  
  
A blur. What was this place..? He looked around. He was in the room from before. The room where he was writing everything in the library. Everything looked different. Old. Delapidated. He looked around the room and was overwhelmed by sadness. He once knew this place at one time or another.  
  
Another blur, this time closer to him than before. He looked around. Without warning, air raid sirens vibrated the room as they sung their terrible song. It was so loud that Neil curled up onto the floor, grasping his head in pain. Then it stopped. The floor felt cold. He looked at it.  
  
The floor was made out of rusted steel grating and the walls were covered in blood. Veins were everywhere on the walls and the ceiling. Then -- an unspeakable horror. Some so terrifying that the very sight of it could kill. Neil felt his insides freeze. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. There was a strange feeling all across him. All of his muscles tightened up. The freeze was not cold and that perhaps was just as horrific as the monster.  
  
Just then, a thought hit him, his last thought.. He tried to remember what could do this. Medusa? Strange.  
  
His skin then turned to stone. A second later, the monster let out an enormous roar and his rock body shattered in every direction.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Fear had taken him. He knew he was dead. He had to be. He opened his eyes. Back on his bed. A drop of sweat streamed across his face and down his neck. The entire bed was wet. He sat up and looked around, unbelieving at that moment that his room was real. He felt the walls and the bed. It was all there. His refuge. He was alive. He was healthy. He realized it and let his upper body collapse back onto the bed. He grabbed his favorite pillow and cried quietly into it. The stress was taking its toll on him. He needed to get away somewhere far where they wouldn't find him. He couldn't take it any longer.  
  
He got up out of bed sometime later and did all his usual morning activities: Shower, breakfast, but with no toast or orange juice. Milk and cookies would have to suffice. His paycheck automatically arrived in his account and Neil was ready to go. Before it was even noon, he packed all of his things. Something had excited him.  
  
A broucher to a small getaway town. It was close. It read:  
  
"Looking to get away to a tranquil place where nobody will find you? Life getting to you? You just can't take it anymore? Well, head on down to Silent Hill. We've got everything you need for a nice, relaxing vacation. A gorgeous lake, a beautiful hotel overlooking it, and a culture drowned in Civil War history. There's even an amusement park near the lake as well.  
  
Silent Hill; quiet, peaceful, perfect. We made it tailored just for you. Relax, it's on us! "  
  
The broucher unfolded into directions and a map of the whole town. The broucher was right. It really was just for him. He loved lakes, he loved hotels, and he hadn't been to an amusement park since he was a kid.  
  
But best of all, it was his new source for information.  
  
He left the apartment at 1:00 and left for Silent Hill. He couldn't wait to get there. 


	2. Chapter Two

"I'm going to be going away for a day or so. Yeah, my aunt. I never told you where she lived, did I? Well, I'm going to make sure she's okay. Yeah. Okay. Of course not! The place might even help. It has the history. Yeah, okay. Okay. OKAY !  
  
No, no no no. Okay, alright, fine! I get your point! Jeez, it's my aunt, alright? Look, I've gotta go. I'm almost there and it has started to rain. I need to keep my eyes on the road as it's going to get wet. Seeya."  
  
He looked at his cell phone. Its buttons were the color of an apple rigged to a nuclear power plant. It bleeped annoyingly as a voice said "caller lost". He hit the end button and put the phone on the old tan leather passenger's seat. A streak of thunder flew across the sky in a blink, with thunder following behind it. Right on cue, the clouds unleashed their fury. It went from a slight drizzle to a flash flood in seconds. Neil turned a lever next to the wheel and the beat up windshield wipers went back and forth on the dirty glass like an insane pendulum. Even then, he could barely see ahead of him. A green sign popped up from the unknown. It said "Silent Hill: Next Exit".  
  
Neil stayed on the outside lane, waiting for the turn-off. When it came, he took it. Another sign then came into view. It was a yellow and had two very curvy lines on it. His reflexes turned to jello as the turns came faster while the screaming water pellets lunged forth at the window. At least it wouldn't be so brown.  
  
Then it came. The main road into Silent Hill. He was going very very fast, but he did not know it. Buldings suddenly flew past him at a frequency not unlike that of a strobe light. He noticed his speed finally and slammed the brakes. They screached to a halt on the wet pavement. He looked to his left and there, barely visible in the rain, was a red sign saying "CAFE 5TO2".  
  
He grabbed a little dark green radio from one of his dusty old briefcases and put it in his pocket so that he would know when the rain might stop. He started to calculate how to get in the cafe as the rain poured down.. He looked at his car door, then at the handle, then the road and the sidewalk, then finally the enterance to the cafe. He breathed deeply. In his mind, the rain wasn't rain, but acid rain that he would have to blaze through to survive.  
  
He breathed deeply again then said, "One.. Two.."  
  
His finger twitched nervously.  
  
"THREE!"  
  
It, along with three other fingers and a thumb attached to a hand, went for the handle, quickly grabbing it and pulling back. Neil's right leg slammed on the door as it flew out to the side. He jumped out and unbuckled his seat in the same motion. The rain was pouring so hard and so fast that it stung. As soon as he was past the door and on the ground, his left leg reached around his back to push the car door back to its spot. It slammed and with the sound of reaffirmation, he bolted towards the door. He pushed the door and it opened easily. He turned around and closed it very quickly.  
  
"Wow!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth. "The forecast didn't say anything about this kind of rain!"  
  
His clothes were absolutely soaked and dripping with water, the little drops coming off every edge of his clothing. It made the marble floor very wet and slippery. As soon as his heart calmed down, he took a step forwards. It was a small cafe with a little bar table immediately in front of him, 4 or 5 stools lined up liked soldiers. To his left and right were 2 tables, each with 2 booths. Nobody was around anywhere. The only sound was that of the furious rain and thunder. He looked out the window and noticed there were no cars and no people. No hint of any population at all. Maybe everyone was just inside, seeking shelter from the storm, but even then -- It was very weird.  
  
Then he heard a voice. It was a woman's voice with a hint of twang. "Caught in the rain too, eh stranger?"  
  
He looked around and saw a smiling blond haired woman. Her hair was shoulder height. Her face was warm, sweet, inviting, but at the same time distant, cold, souless. She was hiding something. In the past, Neil used this ability in many advantageous ways. He hoped here that maybe they would gain him an advantage, because at once he knew she had something to do with it.  
  
He didn't know what "it" was, but whatever "it" was, "it" caused that rain outside. He knew that in the back of his mind as an absolute truth. He smiled back at the woman.. Or rather, girl. She couldn't be any more than 16. He walked over to her booth. She was wearing a pale green shirt and blue overalls with a big white ribbon on her back. Definitely involved, he thought. Was she trying to fool him on some way?  
  
"Yeah, I'm caught in it. Is this.. Usual for this time of the year? It's summer and well, truthfully it was only a 30 minute drive. When I left I -- " Then the girl interupted him as she put her slender right index and middle finger on his lips, politely hinting for him to shut up. . "Slow down there, tex. What's your name?" She said as she took her fingers off his lips.  
  
"I'm Neil Spencer." He said, looking very awkward in the process.  
  
The girl nodded slowly and smiled -- or was it a smirk? Neil couldn't tell. "I'm Laura." She said softly.  
  
"Probably wondering what's going on here, eh?" She asked him. Neil nodded. "Yeah," said Neil. "I am. It really makes me wonder. It's raining like Hell, and there's nobody around. Do you.. Know what's going on?"  
  
She shuffled her feet under the table, looked down at her seat, then looked back at Neil. "I have an idea." She said vaguely.  
  
Neil's eyes squenched up a bit, analyzing her words. Then he noticed she was holding something -- an envelope and a teddy bear, with one plastic eye hanging out of its socket by a thread. "What's with the bear?" He asked her honestly. She suddenly looked very angry. "Oh right, figures! You're the same too, eh? Well, for your information, he happens to be MY teddy bear from when I was a child! Like you care!"  
  
She stood up huffing, knocking a drink over onto the table. Neil's eyes widened as he looked gapingly at her. "I.. I didn't mean anything!" He said apoligetically. She became even more engraged. "YOU'RE JUST THE SAME, AREN'T YOU? YOU SEE MY BEAR, YOU SEE IT AND YOU THINK, "OH HOW DUMB AND CHILDISH!" WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T CARE! I'M GOING BACK TO MY HOTEL!"  
  
She stormed out of the cafe and back into the rain. Neil tried to follow her, but she already disappeared into the cacophony of droplets. He stared blankly at the direction she had walked as the howling wind blew his hair and clothes. What was her problem? He shook his head and walked back inside, shaking his body like a dog might. Just then, he noticed she had dropped something. He picked it up. It was a piece of paper. Written in red ink was something that said, "I know what you want. It's on Nathan Avenue."  
  
"Nathan Avenue?" Neil said to himself. He pulled out the broucher and looked at the map. Sure enough, there was Nathan avenue. What else was on it? The Silent Hill Historical Society building. He also noticed that there was something strange on his own map. A red marker had written on it and there was a line from the cafe to an elementary school. Written near the school's location was something that said, "The normal way is blocked off. Go through the sewers. The enterance is barred off and you'll have to go through the school to get there. You'll need a key though to get inside the school. It's right over here.."  
  
Next to the "here" was another red line that went to a church. "Did Laura do this?" Neil asked himself. But it didn't matter to him. He wasn't going to go through all this to get to the historical society. He left the cafe and went into his car and tried to start it up. The engine wouldn't even rev. It was completely shot. He got out and popped open the front trunk. The engine wasn't just shot, it wasn't even there. He then got desperate and ran through the rain back the way he came from. He was blocked off! Where there should've been road, it was just a chasm! It was like a huge comet hit and went deep into the surface, hundreds of feet down. Neil began to panic. The strangeness was getting higher on his scale every second.  
  
He searched the town for what seemed like forever. Every road out of the town was destroyed. Whatever he felt that was here --  
  
It wanted him to stay.  
  
What other choice did he have? He didn't know. He knew he couldn't escape until..  
  
A red light.  
  
Sleep.  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Everything was blurry. He knew it had been there, creeping around. He felt around on the ground. The freezing black steel felt him back. It felt right into him and out the other side, smashing into the wall. He pulled his hand away. It was still like this. He looked towards the window he remembered entering. He tried to pull it open, but it wouldn't budge. He looked at the other door which was the way he came in. He opened the door. Everything had changed. Had he done this before?  
  
The walls were breathing, living, crying -- choking, spitting, biting and gnashing -- moaning, groaning, painful and vengeful - faces in the plastic. Faces with gaping holes. On the ceiling. So many grey, decomposed faces looking at him. Masks of death. Masks of guilt. Pain. Fear. Jealousy. What did they know, couldn't say. Couldn't know. So much pain. All at once. For so long the bodies had wept.  
  
Now they weep no more. Cold hand. Death. Death upon him. He could feel it. It was like a burning freeze. But it couldn't be death. It was in his stomach.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Neil squenched his eyes and then opened them. He was on the ground, but where? His glasses were off of his face. He felt around and found them, put them back on.  
  
The world came back into focus again. Relief again. He stood up on the grey concrete and looked around. He wasn't at the obliterated road from before. The church was right in front of him that was on his map.  
  
He rubbed his head with the palm of his left hand. "I was dreaming that...." he said. He told himself that because he had just woken up. That's what people usually do to know what's a dream and what's for real. Neil didn't know if he had really woken up. Everything had been so surreal. Was it really real? He pondered that thought for a moment or two. Was he still in his old bed in his apartment? He had to be. This couldn't be for real, but it was. It had to be.  
  
Or maybe.. It was.. A dream come to life?  
  
"That's insane!" He said to himself.  
  
((...but maybe... it is? Perhaps I really am going insane...))  
  
He walked stumblefooted into the Church. The huge enterance doors creaked in a very deep pitch and slammed behind him as soon as he entered the building. The slamming doors startled him and he instinctually snapped his head backwards to look at the doors. As soon as he calmed down, he looked down the isle of wooden booths.  
  
At the end, praying to an alter, was a little girl. He walked closer to get a better look. She looked somewhere around 8 or 9 years old, she had long, black hair and was wearing dark orange robes. It was strange that her robes were orange as everything else had a brown or grey tint to it.  
  
"Hello?" He asked to the girl to see if she would respond. The girl took a deep breath and then began to chant in a whisper. Neil frowned. Maybe she was deaf. Just to be sure, he said hello again, this time in a louder voice. The girl stopped her prayer and sighed frustratingly.  
  
"Wanderer, if you choose to interupt my prayer, it had better be very important for I am losing my patience. Can you not at least have the common decency to wait until I am done?" She asked in an almost monotone voice.  
  
"I'm sorry. I just ---"  
  
Neil was going to continue talking, but the girl got up. Her robes flowed majestically as she turned to face him. She gasped quietly at the sight of him. "It's you!" she said.  
  
"Huh?" said Neil. "What...."  
  
"You! I've been awaiting you. I know what you seek and I will gladly help you with a key, but first pray and come sit with me!" Said the girl.  
  
"I.. I don't even know your name!" Said Neil as he was trying to compose himself.  
  
The girl nodded and said "I am Cindy, a priestess. Well, rather a priestess in training. I know your name, but that is not relevant at the time."  
  
Neil shrugged and sat down on a chair next to Cindy. "So -- Cindy..."  
  
Cindy smiled as he said her name. "Yes?"  
  
"You said you would help me?" He asked her.  
  
"Indeed I will, traveler! But first, I must tell you of a grave danger... Of the red robed succubus Imara."  
  
"Imara?" He said to himself.  
  
"Imara is a terrible demon whose sole purpose is to constantly torture any unbelievers of the religion she is a part of! She takes charge in hunting for poor souls everyday, her terrible form floating in the fog. She has no face, but she is all in red, and that is what I must warn you of. When you turn one's eyes to the red, she will have you. Her horrible demons will appear and she will put you under her spell, thrusting you into a world of her own hellish fantasies where all the other souls reside! She will tempt you will lustful sins beyond reckoning! This is what you must be weary of, kind person! But do not lose faith within yourself for you shall be tormented not if you follow my instructions!"  
  
Neil continued to watch Cindy as she pulled a white vial from a cabinet.  
  
"This shall hold back Imara and her demons!"  
  
Cindy handed the white vial to Neil. He took a closer look at it and saw that it really wasn't a white vial, but it did contain a white liquid.  
  
"It takes months to produce this formula. I knew of your arrival ahead of time, so I began the work."  
  
Neil stared at the vial for a moment or two. "Cindy -- What.. Is this?"  
  
"It is the Holy Liquid which subsumes within it the spirit of the martyr St. Claudia! Her blessed holiness will cleanse your aura from Imara. Go on, drink it."  
  
"But.. Why.. Why should I believe you? This place is so screwed up -"  
  
" --please do not swear in the church--"  
  
" -- that I don't know what to believe anymore!"  
  
"What additional preference do you veritably have? You know what this town is capable of and it will get even more iniquitous than the present. You know what it will be like. You've seen it, albeit not in conscious condition."  
  
((the dreams...))  
  
"How do you know who I am?" asked Neil.  
  
"It was fortold by Gyromancy." said Cindy.  
  
"Listen, Cindy... I don't really know if I should. I appreciate your care, or whatever it is, but I don't even know what your purpose is in this.. 'Thing'. I don't know what's going on and I sure as hell don't feel like I should be taking your orders!"  
  
"If you disedirate the key, you will imbibe the liquid. It's for your own good. Do you want the key or not?"  
  
"Yes, I do.. But.."  
  
"Drink it then!"  
  
"I don't.."  
  
"Please, Neil. I only want what's best for you."  
  
Neil sighed and looked down at his feet in thought. After a minute of contemplation, he looked back up at Cindy and said, "Fine. I'll do it."  
  
Neil grabbed the cork that closed the vial and consumed the substance. A strange chill went up his spine and into his head.  
  
"Good. Good. That's it." Said Cindy as she patted Neil on the back. Neil gave a slight burp.  
  
"Excuse me!" he said, embaressed.  
  
"No problem at all." Cindy said happily.  
  
Then there was a unearthly moan that shook the walls of the church. Cindy began to breathe very quickly as another ghastly moan erupted from outside. Then it came. It slid right through the walls. Cindy screamed.  
  
"IMARA! HOW DID SHE..?!"  
  
Imara face was covered in a strange fleshy plastic material and wore a red skirt and shirt with chains hanging down from the waist. It floated like a ghost towards the Cindy and Neil. It made a flicking motion with its left hand (which consisted of a thumb and one huge finger that looked that four normal fingers welded together) and Cindy went flying into a booth, knocking her out.  
  
"Cindy!" screamed Neil. She was out for the count.  
  
Then the demon came for Neil and drew out its fleshy wings. Imara put out its left hand in a vertical position towards him. He turned blue and crumpled to the ground.  
  
The last thing he remembered before going into blackness were...  
  
Sirens. Distant sirens.  
  
----------------------------  
  
He opened his eyes. It was very, very cold and smelled of rotted flesh. He looked around and then screamed for dear life. The church was now like from his nightmares. The floors had turned into metal grating and the walls had becomed a dark shade of brown and yellow.  
  
The liquid had not saved him from Imara's Hell. In fact, he felt as if somehow..  
  
It had caused it. 


End file.
